


A Touch of Domesticity

by boredwriting



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredwriting/pseuds/boredwriting
Summary: A short, fluffy story of a goodend!LaCroix and OC!Ventrue sharing a romantic moment together years after the events in LA.
Relationships: Sebastian LaCroix/Original Female Character(s), Sebastian LaCroix/Original Ventrue Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	A Touch of Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> Election anxiety has been making me feel down lately, so I decided to write a short fluff piece to bring a bit of joy back into my life. While the story shares the same OC!Ventrue as my main story, What We Hide in the Dark, the stories are not connected. Hence the term goodend!, since the latter story is gonna be far from fluffy. 
> 
> LaCroix in this fic is admittingly a little OOC, but hopefully it's not too jarring. It's meant to be a short and sweet piece after all. I hope you enjoy reading it like I enjoyed writing it! I would love to write more fluff with other characters/different pairings in between chapters of the big fic in the future.

Sebastian wakes alone in the canopy bed he shared with his partner. Emily has always been the earlier riser and often disappeared before he can open his eyes. He notices how she had parted the drapes for him to reveal a clear starlit sky above fog covered mountains. It’s a view he has seen countless times before, but it's one that never fails to bring him much needed calm every night. It compels him to rise from bed and get up onto his feet. He approaches the window and examines the view beyond the glass.

The night is young. The sun had set about one or two hours prior. With no street lamps or towns for miles, the stars are allowed to shine at their brightest. He can see the constellations, bright celestial bodies, and moving satellites occupy the sky's dark canvas. Down below, he sees fog dance around the forest-covered hills like smoke. Across the horizon, the mountains stretch out for miles past the edge. For a moment, he feels like the most secluded man in the world.

It has been a few years since he and Emily escaped LA and abandoned the Camarilla. He reminisces back to that faithful night when she faced him in his gilded office. She held the key to the sarcophagus in her hand, told him how his Beast was leading his mind astray and was threatening to destroy everything. He remembers the endless hunger, the thirst for violence, the lust for complete control in all things that made it near impossible to see what was in front of him.

He was a bad Prince. He had severely mismanaged his resources and had broken the trust of every Kindred in the city. And he was a worse King. He had lost this game of chess and Emily had him in checkmate. She made him see that. Something was broken inside of him. He knew that. But then, in a contradictory way, she broke him again. This time it was his Beast that faltered. Through the cracks of the facade, he finally saw himself. As he kneeled before her, admitted defeat, and rescinded his right to the key, she pitied him. Then somehow, she forgave him. He watched her in awe as she sauntered over to the sarcophagus and slid the key into its opening.

His first thought was that she was going to be the one to do it. The one to devour the Elder, rightfully restore power to this city, and bring all her opponents to their knees. She would be better equipped than him to do it. He admired her for it. But instead, she told him something very unexpected.

“It’s a bomb.” She said nonchalantly. “Once I open it, we have 30 seconds to get in the elevator and make a run for it.” He couldn’t believe it. Was she joking? This was absolutely the wrong time to tell a joke like that. One look into her eyes and he saw she wasn’t kidding. _How long did she know?_ he thought. But there was no time for questions. All he could do was stand and nod.

She twisted the key and pushed the lid open, checking the contents for only a split second before grabbing his hand and bolting for the door, escaping to an uncertain future.

The bomb went off like she said it would. Luckily, they were close enough to the bottom floor in the elevator that they were able to make it past the blast damage. After evading Anarch and Camarilla forces for a few nights on the dissonant streets of LA, he used his connections to sell private assets and smuggle themselves to the East Coast.

Years later, they live here, in a badly aged Victorian estate high in the Berkshire Mountains in Massachusetts. It’s far enough to avoid attention from either the New York or Boston Camarilla sects and close enough to blue-blooded humans for them to sustain on for several years.

It’s not a great arrangement by any means. He is accustomed to being in large cities surrounded by Kindred and kine alike, absorbing new cultures and peoples, and enjoying fine luxuries and vast amounts of wealth. Living in a dark, brooding mansion on a mountain, dozens of miles from the nearest town and sustaining on moderate funds was what he absolutely despised when he faced it centuries ago training underneath his sullen European masters. He understands the necessity of it now, but still openly loathes it.

The real reason for choosing this particular property however, lied with Emily. Behind the mansion is a large conservatory, a Victorian greenhouse built with glass walls and three glass domes, filled with plant life, fountains, and Antiquity-inspired sculptures. Though when they first obtained the property, the conservatory was decrepit with the plant life already dried up dead, major cracks lining in the glass, and much of the marble structures already broken. But Emily was confident she could rebuild it. She wanted to breathe life into this place, make it a sanctuary for the two of them, a place for thinking and repose. For her, Sebastian would put anything in her capable hands if she wanted it. She could turn anything she wanted into a beautiful reality.

Over the years, she did indeed bring life back into the conservatory, more so than the rest of the estate. She had much of the marble work and glass repaired, new plumbing installed for the watering system, and a gardener hired to plant and maintain new greenery during the day. During the night, she has a hand in maintaining the newest selection of flowers, leaves, and vines that adorn the greenhouse. She spends most of her waking hours in this space, either working diligently or resting under a tree.

He knows she must be there now. He decides to greet her with something different to break the monotony of Kindred domesticity. He gets dressed in a three-piece suit, comprising a white dress shirt, matching light gray vest, jacket, and slacks, a lilac-colored tie, and gray leather shoes. He finishes with silver Ankh-shaped cuff links and a fresh gel comb through his hair. He double-checks himself in the mirror to smooth out the creases before heading over.

It’s a short walk outside the estate to the conservatory. He can easily see it from a distance with its white LED lights on. As he gets closer, he spots her blurred figure through the glass in the left-wing, tending to flowers. He can’t help to smile when she drops what she's doing to get closer to the glass. He knows she can spot him too.

He quickly finds the entrance and steps past its threshold. A large running fountain with mermaid statues as the centerpiece greets him in the concourse. Twisting vines with leaves run through the fountain and reach upwards towards the dome. He takes a left to the wing where he spotted Emily.

After he parts another set of glass doors, he finds her admiring a white night orchid in a flower patch. Emily is wearing an off-white cotton shirt, tight-fitting beige khaki trousers, gardening gloves, and black rain boots. Her short brunette hair, previously combed and straightened, is now frizzy and wavy from the humidity. It’s a very utilitarian outfit that’s well suited for gardening. Not the most impressive to gaze upon, so instead he focuses on the curvature of her body underneath the clothing. He would love to strip her of the constricting outfit if she insists on it.

She turns to meet his gaze from a distance. Her tired eyes immediately perk up from the sight of his outfit ensemble. She smiles the widest smile he has seen from her in days. She runs to meet him halfway through the room and jumps into his arms, embracing him as he catches her and holds her around her waist.

“Sebastian!” She exclaims cheerfully. He sets her down and delivers a kiss to her lips as a greeting. She hums in approval. “This suit... It’s brand new, isn’t it? So clean and posh.” She removes her gloves and runs her hands down his chest to get a feel for his suit. They examine the fine fabric of the jacket lapels first, then the knot of his tie, before a hand slips underneath and teases to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Emily, please.” He lightly nudges her hand away. “I just put this on. Let me enjoy wearing this for a little while longer.” When she refuses to move them, he grabs her right hand and kisses the back of it. She smiles and pulls her hands back.

“What’s the occasion, mon cher?” she teases.

“Only to see you, my love. And to see how our little piece of paradise is coming together. It’s looking more vibrant than it did last season.” Sebastian looks up and around him. Varying shades of dark and light green line the marble columns and metal beams supporting the two-story-tall glass, while he and Emily stand on a white tile floor surrounded by lush foliage. Many of the flowering plants are in bloom or are close to it. The fragrant smells of nature, abundant in the air, tickles his senses.

“It’s all coming together, slowly but surely,” she tells him. “A couple more years of steady work and it will be our own Garden of Eden.” She waves her hand up above, emphasizing the grand space. “For now... it’s a good start. I’d do more, but there’s so much that can only grow through the passage of time. Nature can’t be rushed, you know.” Her head is still angled up towards the ceiling.

“Rome ne s’est pas faite en un jour,” Rome wasn’t built in a day. “And neither were their splendid gardens. You needn’t fault yourself for what you can’t control. Your diligence is still well rewarded.” His kind words turn her gaze back to him. Her eyes beam with joy.

“Thank you, my sweet. I know you’re not fond of our living situation... but I hope I can bring you some much-needed solace through this garden. Once it’s fully bloomed, it’ll be our own perfect world. Where the problems of both Kindred or kine society can’t reach us.”

Sebastian can see the stars in her eyes. She spoke frequently of her ambitions to form this garden, then eventually the rest of the estate into a Ventrue's dream: a place where they could rule and shape their own piece of the world, have their own coterie of willing subjects to watch over, and one day possess the freedom and power to deal with anything they want on their own terms. All of this in an estate at the edge of a mountain range.

He on the other hand, isn’t quite seeing eye-to-eye with her just yet. His Beast still occasionally claws at his mind, body, and soul for a chance of real power in the Camarilla somewhere else in the world. He lives out the same fantasy in his head most nights, of finding the right moment in time where a Camarilla court is weak, of whisking himself and Emily into the fray, saving the city and securing them notable seats of power for generations onwards. But he knows it’s an unachievable dream. He cannot repeat the mistakes he committed in LA, not again. His conscious mind understands, but his bloodline persists to haunt him with wild visions of grandeur.

Upon realizing himself clamoring for the past again, Sebastian takes Emily’s hand. “My love. There’s something else I’ve prepared for you. Come this way.” She doesn’t protest or resist as he pulls her towards the other side of the conservatory.

The right-wing compared to the left-wing is underdeveloped. Repairs were made to the glass and some marble work, but many of the cracks in the statues are still unfilled and the plumbing hasn’t been fixed entirely. The greenery is mostly residual vines and weeds from the concourse and the left-wing, though it still gives the room a lively green hue. In the middle of the room is a wooden end table with a portable stereo laid on top. Sebastian had previously set them up here at an earlier date for an occasion such as this.

“When did that get here?” Judging from her reaction, he’s surprised that he hadn’t noticed it already. He lets go of her at the center of the room and approaches the stereo. He checks the cassette tape in the tray before switching the stereo on. Music begins to resonate within the room. The fanciful tune of The Second Waltz by Dmitri Shostakovich fills the room, its sound echoing and bouncing off the glass to create a fully enclosed acoustic cocoon. Emily’s eyes widen in delight and surprise.

“Mon coeur, I didn’t know you...” Her words are soft and unexpected.

“May I have this dance, mademoiselle?” Sebastian bows and reaches his hand out to her. She smiles joyfully as she takes it and brings herself into his arms.

In closed position, they glide their feet seamlessly across the paved tiles, moving to a beautifully improvised waltz, their eyes locked solely on each other. Though Sebastian is taking the lead, Emily’s skill in dancing and her devoted grace carries his mind elsewhere.

He feels calm and at ease again, like a sail dutifully following the wind. For a small moment in time, he is blissfully unaware of his sad reality and the callings of his inner self. He willingly loses himself in the glimmer in her eyes and the shape of her lips. He grasps her hand in his left and her back in his right tenderly as the rhythm moves them together towards collective bliss.

It is all too short when the recording cuts out with one last beat. Before the next song could start, he holds her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, locking his lips with hers and slipping his tongue in to intertwine with hers. She accepts him happily and wraps her arms around his chest. He responds by grabbing her hair and pushing her even more towards his hungry embrace. An elongated moan escapes from her as she tries to keep up with the rapture.

An indeterminate amount of time passes before they finally break away. Tired from their moment of passion, Emily lays her head on his shoulder while he continues to cradle her.

“Let's be like this forever, Sebastian. Together and always.” She mutters softly at his side.

“Of course. No matter what happens, I will always be by your side. My love.”

The world feels so much smaller to him now, comprising just the two of them standing underneath a glass dome. But it’s the only one that makes him feel as he should: happy and content. Through these small moments with Emily, he forgets himself little by little, and his regressions towards the Beast appear less often and become less taxing on his soul.

Sebastian doesn’t know what will become of him in the following years. Nor does he know what Emily will do once she realizes her dream. There is only one thing that is certain. He will hold out for her, and she for him, for as long as their love will carry them.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference for Victorian conservatories:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/3518505948481821/
> 
> Music reference:  
> Shall We Dance album by Andre Rieu, Johann Strauss Orchestra - Spotify


End file.
